Looking out from the windows of the tower, you can overlook the whole of London. The gray and brick-red roofs are one piece, and the sky is high and empty above. Pigeons circled round and round, and occasionally a crow landed on the gray chimney of the factory not far away. I was reading by the window, and the wind was so strong that it always made the paper on the desktop rattle.
When the air battle was at its most intense, I even saw German planes roaring past from a distance, and the bright red swastikas on the tail were particularly eye-catching.
C eventually stepped down, and Andrew found some information in his old files.
In fact, there is only a blurred line between illusion and reality. When you cross over, you will find that the world is so different.
C contacted my mother through British spies in Berlin. He gave it to Jane who was working for the Berlin Intelligence Service. Custer sent my photos and information, telling her that I was in the hands of the British Intelligence Agency, and hoped that she would cooperate with their work. As early as when C agreed to let me enter Plimpton Manor, I became a pawn in his hands.
"Did mother agree?"
"No." Andmond shook his head: "Mrs. Custer's actions are closely monitored. Even if she wants to, she can't pass on information to us. Besides, she doesn't trust the British Intelligence Agency."
"At this time C made a decision. He told Mrs. Custer that you were working for the Intelligence Agency and responsible for cracking the 'mystery'. He praised you as an excellent young man and hoped that she could help his son at the right time, help Her home country. I think that's why she knows you're in office one and is trying to pass on information to you that way. She's taking a huge risk sending us a code similar to 'mystery' and not sure if you can Identify and decipher them."
"Why didn't she contact the intelligence agency directly?"
"She doesn't trust the intelligence agency, only her son. Ellen, she said she loves you."
"I love her too," I said. "I don't understand why she works for Berlin."
Andemon hugged me and sighed: "Everyone has their own beliefs."
I understand my mother's disbelief in the Intelligence Agency, which is exactly the same as I am now. Andemon was right, this is a dark department, and no one who enters can leave cleanly. But I don't understand why the mother who accepted the Nazi belief and assisted Germany in developing the "mystery" leaked information to us in the end-is it out of love for the motherland that has not yet burned out, or as a mother after receiving a threatening letter from C Want to help your son who works in intelligence
Contact was lost for a long time afterwards. Andemon brought a photographer to see me and took many black and white photos.
He told me, "You can be a little more desperate, Ellen."
I don't think I could have made a more desperate expression. Both C and the intelligence bureau controlled by Andermond adopted the same approach, which was simple and direct. It's just that C at least let me work normally in Plimpton Manor, and Andermond has me locked up in this watchtower.
He took a lot of pictures and sent them to my mother. Shortly afterward, the intelligence link was restored.
I think it's an exploit, but I can't blame him, because intelligence methods are always dirty and despicable. Even if we use them for a noble purpose, it cannot hide the fact of its own existence.
I ask Andymon to set me free.
He declined, telling me he had no such right.
He hugged me and listed many, many reasons—the quarantine decision had the prime minister's signature, he didn't have the right to let me out, the intelligence service was threatening my mother who worked in Berlin by imprisoning me, and his Every behavior is watched by everyone, and he cannot release his lover in private.
"Alan, I'm sorry. In this position, many things that could be handled before can't be done."
But I suspect that all this is just an excuse. All for one reason - I was on the untrusted blacklist. The authorities are afraid. They knew these things weren't fair to me, and were afraid that once I was free, when the truth came out, I'd try to get in touch with Berlin and be a good, good Nazi like my mother.
I know so much information that I can tell that the German "fan" has been cracked, and even help them develop an intelligence system on top of the "fan". So they shut me up in this watchtower and couldn't set me free.
Arnold came to visit me. He often performs operations here, wearing a doctor's white coat, sitting on my wire bed with his legs crossed, smoking a cigarette, and complaining that he is exhausted from work.
I asked him, is there any chance for me to get out from here
He stared at the rising light blue smoke ring, and sighed: "I thought Mr. Garcia told you all these possibilities when he first agreed with you to enter Plimpton Manor. Any slight distrust can become A deadly sword."
"He did tell me, but I didn't really understand it," I said. "I guessed a lot of endings, but not this one."
Arnold didn't answer me, he just smiled wryly: "Oh, little Allen, this is not the worst ending."
"If I had the ability, I hoped to get you out of this damn place. But I didn't." He looked a little frustrated: "You will laugh at me for not being able to do this, will you?"
"Andymond can't do it either." I walked over and squatted beside him: "Lend me a cigarette."
Arnold pulled a cigarette from the pack and handed it to me to light it for me.
I took a breath, choked into my lungs, and coughed for a long time.
He reached out to pinch my cigarette butt: "Forget it."
I don't give it to him: "A wounded man is more handsome when he smokes."
Arnold showed me his little cousin's drawings, a little stack, crayons. The first one is the gorse blooming on the window sill of the study, and the second one is his little wooden horse. The third is a pair of distorted gold-rimmed glasses—this is Arnold. I flipped back and there was a tattered math notebook with "Alan Custer" scrawled across the cover.
"Is this me?" I asked.
Arnold narrowed his eyes and nodded: "Joe is clamoring for his tutor every day. Said that you promised to teach him how to draw."
I did promise to find a talented artist and teach the kid to paint. I had planned to take Edgar to meet my students when he returned to Cambridge for his vacation, but I think they will never, never see each other again.
"Your cousin needs to be taught by Vincent van Gogh himself," I told Arnold.
When he left, he smoked the cigarette in my hand and said, "I'll bring you a lighter one next time."
In the spring of 1941, Germany tore up the "Soviet-German Nonaggression Pact" and formally attacked the Soviet Union. The Battle of Britain is over and Britain is victorious. From the window, I never saw the German plane that made a sudden visit over London.
In 1944 the Normandy landing was successful. A festive procession marches through the street outside my window. With renewed hope, people celebrate D-Day in gorgeous clothes rarely worn under the rationing system.
For four years, Andymond came to see me regularly. He brought me a large number of Plimpton Manor codes. I rely on them to pass the empty and boring time.
I don't know the level of those codes, broken or undeciphered, whether he trusts me or just helps me pass the time. None of this matters anymore. I play the numbers game day in and day out, and no password can keep it mysterious in my hands for more than a week.
Anderson would always kiss me and say, "Ellen, you're a genius."
He would tell the guards outside the door to leave, lock the door, then kiss me and take off my coat. We're on top of the gray watchtower, making |love without restraint. The wire bed, the stone floor, he even pressed me on the desk, with my legs on his shoulders, my head almost out of the window, and I could see the trembling height outside when I opened my eyes.
He teases me and makes me say I love him over and over again in my orgasm.
He threatened to push me out of the window if I didn't say anything. All will see Alan Castor naked, with the aftertaste of an orgasm on his dying face.
This kind of love is close to despair, and I feel that one day I will go crazy.
He said, Alan, I'm sorry.
But what is the use of these
He sensed a crisis in our relationship and could only try to reinforce it with aggression.
When "Gone with the Wind" was in theaters, Andymond once had an original novel in his bookcase. I flipped through it when I was bored, and laughed at how he would watch such a hypocritical love drama. The ending is very sentimental.
Near the end, the hero once said: "My dear, have you ever thought that no matter how deep a love is, there will be times when you get bored." - and I am already tired now.